Past and Pending
by jesouhaite47
Summary: Meredith isn't the only one keeping secrets. Spoiler fic for the end of season one. (DerekMeredith)


**Title:** Past and Pending  
**Pairing:** Derek/Meredith  
**Rating:** PG-13 for some cursing.  
**Spoilers:** Oh, hell yes. Big spoilers. Wow spoilers. Through either episode 8 or 9 of season 1. I'm not exactly sure when this story line is going to pop up, but don't say I didn't warn you.  
**Summary:** Meredith isn't the only one keeping secrets. **Spoiler fic for the end of season 1** (particularly the Derek/Meredith storyline)  
**Disclaimer:** So not mine.  
**Author's Note:** Enormous thanks to **sosmitten** and **ciachick711** for their beta skills, and to everyone who has encouraged me to write another fic. I have a feeling that this storyline will play out completely differently on the show, but I wanted to take a crack at it first. The title is blatantly lifted from the Shins' song of the same name. Oh, and blame my son and **emmeredith** for the _Star Wars_ reference.

Feedback will be cherished

* * *

**Past and Pending**

You're not surprised that you went off on him. Disappointed in your lack of self control maybe, but not really surprised. You'd tried to be adult about the whole situation. Mature. Professional. Okay, going out of your way to avoid him might not have been high on the mature scale, but if you had any hope of maintaining the professional part of the equation, it was the only way. Still, your temper had been on a slow boil all day and it was only a matter of time until you exploded.

You'd been minding your own business this morning, working on a chart for one of Burke's patients, when you overheard two nurses talking.

_"Have you seen Dr. Shepherd?"_

_"Not recently. I think he's in surgery."_

_"If you see him, will you tell him that his wife is looking for him? She's on a consult with a patient, but she said to have her paged."_

Your head had snapped up at that. Wife? **WIFE?** What wife? You felt your skin go cold, then hot all over, and a strange buzzing started in your ears. You were numb. . . speechless. . . and you had to get the hell out of there.

You didn't know where you were going, but you didn't get far before Bailey pulled you in with a patient. You were grateful for the distraction. It was all too much to process. _Derek. Wife. Married. Derek is married._ You weren't sure if you were sad or angry. Whether you wanted to cry or rage. Whether you wanted to curl up in a ball and weep or beat the man senseless with a reflex hammer. So, you did what you always do when confronted with an uncomfortable situation – you pretended it didn't exist. You did everything you could to keep "Derek" and "wife" from running on an endless loop in your mind.

Try as you may, though, you couldn't escape the gossip in the halls. One thing about hospitals – news travels fast. It wasn't long until you'd gathered most of the pertinent information about _her_. Dr. Addison Montgomery, one of the country's top fetal surgeons currently employed at New York-Presbyterian Hospital, had been flown in to Seattle Grace to perform an incredibly delicate and risky surgery, separating conjoined twins _in utero_. Apparently, she was one of the few doctors in the world capable of the task. As if that weren't enough, you caught a glimpse of her in the atrium with Dr. Webber and saw that she's beautiful to boot.

Of course. Derek is not only married, he's married to Dr. Perfect.

With each whisper, with each conversation that ended abruptly as you walked by, the tight restraint you were holding on your emotions slipped a bit. By the end of the day it was apparent: anger had won out. You tried to keep it in. This was not the place to address the issue. You just wanted to get home where you could fume in peace, to get some control of your emotions so that you could confront Derek, if not calmly, at least rationally.

Then for the first time since the bomb dropped on you this morning, you saw him, walking into the attending's locker room.

You did the only thing you could think of, the only thing that made sense in that instant. You slammed into the locker room after him.

Fuck rational.

* * *

"You're married? You son of a bitch! You're married!" As the door bangs shut behind you, you applaud yourself for not yelling, though you cringe at the hint of desperation that is obvious in your voice. 

Derek, in the process of changing out of his scrubs, startles at your outburst. "Meredith, calm down," he says as he finishes pulling his shirt over his head.

You're not going to be placated. "Calm down? Calm down? You're married! I've been sleeping with you and you're married." Shaking with fury and unable to stand still, you pace in front of the door as you talk. "You have a wife. A wife that is here, in this hospital, today! Don't you think that's something I might have been interested in knowing?"

"I'm not married," he tries to interrupt, but you're on a roll and you aren't about to stop and listen to him now. Hands waving, your tirade continues.

"I trusted you! You pursued me. . . You dogged me until I finally gave in and slept with you again. I knew it was a bad idea. I told you it was a bad idea. It's against the rules. And unprofessional! But you wouldn't take no for an answer. We've been sleeping together. And you're married! I can't believe this."

Derek reaches out and grabs your hands, finally effective in silencing you. "Meredith! I'm not married."

"Then why is your wife here?" You want to believe him, but if he's been lying to you all this time, you're not about to let him off the hook that easily.

"We're separated. We've been separated. We should be divorced, but she's dragging her heels." Even through your anger, you can see just how her arrival is affecting him. The charming, arrogant, flirty Derek you've grown accustomed to is gone. In his place is a tense and weary man you hardly recognize. You feel a twinge of sympathy, but it's not enough to overcome the anger and shock churning in your stomach.

"How could you hide this from me? The whole time you've been fucking me you've been lying."

Derek drops your hands and goes back to his locker, gathering his things, clearly stung by your words. "Is that all we've been doing? Fucking? I'm glad you clarified that, because I thought it was something else entirely."

"Don't try to side-step the issue. You know that's not the point."

"Then what is the point?" Derek asks, with unmistakable frustration.

"You lying to me. You not telling me you have a wife – a wife who might show up here, at the hospital where I work! My God, Derek, you're married!"

"Stop saying that!" You've never seen Derek truly angry, and the sight of him finally snapping stuns you into silence. "I'm not married. I _was_ married. I'm separated. Believe me when I tell you there is a world of difference between the two. And I never once lied to you. No, I didn't tell you about Addison, but who the hell are you to judge me for keeping secrets? I _know_ something is going on with you Meredith, but every time we get close to a conversation that skirts the edge of your comfort zone, you clam up so fast my head spins. So don't you dare lecture me about secrets."

He zips his bag shut and grabs his coat before turning to look at you.

"My wife had an affair with my best friend. I filed for divorce and moved to the other side country to get away from her. To start over. Today, with absolutely no warning, she shows up here, at the hospital where _I_ work to perform a surgery. A surgery that I'm probably going to scrub in on. Excuse me if my first thought wasn't _'What's Meredith going to think.' _You're right. I should have told you. I didn't. But not everything is about you, Meredith." With that, he slams his locker shut and storms out of the locker room.

You slump heavily against the wall behind you. "Shit."

* * *

Later, you're staring at his door trying to make yourself knock. You know he probably doesn't want to see you, and you're not all that thrilled at the prospect of another potentially difficult conversation, but you just can't leave things the way they are. It's not that you don't think your anger was justified, but you're ashamed of the way that you acted on it. You were awful, and he deserves an apology. 

Taking a deep breath, you screw up your courage and knock. The door swings open, and you see a brief look of surprise flit across Derek's face. He looks tired, and sad, and you hate that you're partly responsible for putting that expression on his face.

"Meredith, it's been a long day and I'm really not up for another session of 'kick Derek'. Can we postpone round two until tomorrow?" He goes to shut the door, but you put a hand out to stop it.

"Derek, please. Hear me out." He stops mid-motion and leans heavily on the frame with one hand tightly gripping the door. His reluctance to hear what you have to say is written all over his face.

"I'm sorry. I was. . . insensitive. And mean. I didn't know and I didn't understand. I think I do now and I'm very, very sorry."

The hard expression on his face softens a bit. "Meredith, it's ok"

"No, it's not. I think I had a right to be upset, but I shouldn't have attacked you without hearing your side of the story. I was just. . . shocked. Can you imagine? There I was, going about my day and all of a sudden people were talking about Dr. Shepherd's wife. Finding out that way threw me. . . "

"I really am sorry that you had to hear about it that way," he interrupts.

"I know, but let me finish. Finding out that way threw me. I'm not proud of my reaction or my behavior. I was horrible and you didn't deserve that."

"You weren't horrible. "

"I was. I accused you of lying, and while you weren't completely truthful, you did nothing that I'm not guilty of myself. We all have secrets, and we all have our reasons for keeping them. So I'm sorry, and I come bearing gifts to make up for it." You reach down and pick up the pizza and six pack that you had set down near the door, offering both with a slight smile.

"I appreciate the offer, but I don't know that I'd be great company right now."

"We don't have to talk about it – any of it. We don't have to talk at all. From what I hear, you had a pretty bad day. Stubborn patients, an ex-wife showing up out of the blue, some crazy woman yelling at you in the locker room. I thought maybe you could use a friend. I brought dinner, alcohol, and I hear there's a _Star Wars_ marathon on cable. You know you can't resist Princess Leia."

The corners of his mouth turn up a bit. "I never should have told you about that. I should have known you'd use it against me some day." He looks down at the carpet for a long moment. Just as you're about to apologize again and leave, he looks up at you, steps back, and motions for you to come inside.

You're both relaxed deep in his couch with your feet propped up on the coffee table. The pizza is long gone, you're each on your second beer, and _The Empire Strikes Back_ is in full swing when Derek speaks again.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

You reach over and put your hand on his leg reassuringly. "Why didn't you?"

"I wasn't intentionally hiding anything from you. The whole thing is just such a mess. If I didn't talk about it, I didn't have to think about it. If I didn't think about it, I didn't have to deal with it."

You have to smile at that. "Ah, I see. You're familiar with the Meredith Grey method of denial."

He looks over at you, and behind his smile, you see that concerned, compassionate Derek is back. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Yes. But not tonight. Tonight we're going to eat pizza, drink beer, watch Luke Skywalker get the shit kicked out of him and forget that the rest of the world exists for a little while."

"Dr. Grey, that sounds like a fabulous plan." He raises his beer and you join him in the toast.

You both return your attention to the movie. You can't help but notice that while you were talking, you unconsciously moved just a bit closer together. Your left shoulder is now touching his right, and your legs are pressed together. It feels. . . comfortable, and more than a little comforting. As you sit back and ponder the best way to mock him for his obsession with Princess Leia, you know there's one thing left unsaid.

"We aren't just sleeping together."

You see the hint of a smile and he takes a swig of his beer to hide it.

"Be quiet and watch the movie. We're just getting to the good part."

_the end_


End file.
